


Sprung

by xplrvibes



Category: Sam and Colby, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Gen, No Romance, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Post Jail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:15:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xplrvibes/pseuds/xplrvibes
Summary: They had never been torn apart like that before.  Nobody had ever dared try it.
Relationships: Colby Brock & Sam Golbach
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Sprung

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Sam and Colby’s arrest rehashed, brief talk of the jail system, mentions of anxiety (nothing explicit)  
> Also posted at tumblr (same user name)

Sam has never seen a better sight than a disheveled, tired Colby Brock waiting for him outside of the police station.

The preceding 14 hours since Sam had last watched Colby disappear in a single file line of arrestees behind an ominous steel door, painful smirk forced across his face and a slight tremor in his handcuffed hands, had been some of the worst he had ever experienced in his life. He was released into the muggy Florida night a short time later with no cell phone, no car, no idea of where he was or how to get to where he needed to be.

No Colby at his side.

They had never been torn apart like that before. Nobody had ever dared try it. Sam felt like a piece of him had been taken; a fundamental piece, like his liver or some shit. He felt wrong in his skin without Colby by his side; especially knowing where he had left him, and that all of the responsibility of getting him out of there rested on his shoulders.

To say Sam was stressed, would be an understatement.

But Sam was nothing if not determined, and he would make it work. He sucked in a breath, steeled his spine, and began making his way to a gas station pay phone to call the Irelands.

He had work to do.

***

Fourteen hours and multiple phone calls to worried parents and terrified friends and one extremely exasperated lawyer (”On a construction site in _Florida?_ Sam...”) later, Sam was finally told that Colby’s bail had been posted and he was being released. Sam could go and get him.

He was never planning on letting anyone separate them like that again.

“Hey,” Colby muttered as Sam walked up to where he sat with a couple of fans outside the doors to the precinct, bail paperwork and a bag of his possessions in his hand. He looked distinctly un-Colby like at the moment; rattled, definitely and it showed. He was pale, his hair was in a state of disarray, his Justin Bieber shirt- _and God, who else but Colby would go to jail in a Justin Bieber fit?_ -was wrinkled and stretched at the collar. He had a smile plastered to his face, but his eyes were shining bright with barely concealed anxiety. He wanted out of this place, asap.

Sam let out the breath he had been holding since Colby had first been walked away from him by those damn guards. He felt the missing piece of his soul settle back in to place. His world realigned itself. 

Colby was back with him.

“Hey,” he responded back, and held out a hand to take Colby’s possession bag for him. “Ready to head out?”

“Totally.”

***

After saying goodbye and taking a photo with the fans who had waited outside the police station with Colby, they got back in the rental car that Sam had gone to pick up from the abandoned school a few hours earlier and headed back towards the hotel.

“So, the fans said that everyone knows?” Colby asked quietly from the passenger seat. His ring-less hands were flexing in his lap. His voice was shaking.

Sam gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and cleared his throat. “Um, yea,” he responded slowly. “They found out and made it trend on twitter for like, a whole day. Found our mugshots, too,” he added.

Colby whistled. “Shit.” He reached up to play with his earring-a nervous habit he had developed since getting his ears pierced the year prior-and winced when he realized the earring was no longer there. His hand fell back to his lap, trembling.

“Yep,” Sam agreed. “By the time I got out last night, word was already everywhere.” He swallowed and briefly glanced over at Colby. “Our parents already knew.”

Colby glanced back. “Did you talk to them?” He whispered.

Sam nodded on a grimace. He didn't want to think about the conversation he had with his own parents. To say they were disappointed would be an understatement. “I talked to your mom, too. Told her I wasn’t gonna let you rot in a jail cell. She made me promise to get you out,” he smiled. Colby didn’t smile back. “Dude, she’s ok, I promise. Just worried about you.”

“She’s not mad?” Colby asked in a small voice.

“I mean, probably, but...” Sam shrugged. Colby said nothing else. What else was there to say?

The rest of the drive was in silence.

***

Although Sam had stayed with the Irelands while working tirelessly on getting Colby back, he didn’t think Colby would be up to going there and seeing everyone right now. So, he took them back to their original hotel, which had thankfully been paid up for another day before the arrest.

Colby hadn’t questioned it. He walked into their room and looked around at the mess they had left behind 30 hours prior before dropping his jail paperwork and possession bag in a heap on the hotel table and heading over to his bed. He slumped down on the bed with a tired sigh, turning to lean himself against the headboard and drawing his knees up in front of him. 

Sam sighed and came to sit down next to Colby, also turning to lean against the headboard. He bumped his shoulder into Colby’s in solidarity, and Colby huffed and leaned his head onto Sam’s shoulder.

The silence stretched out between them for a moment, comfortable and sure. They didn’t need words. They both always just knew. It was a thing that their friends and even family would tease them for sometimes, their ability to just sit and _be_ together, with no words, and draw some kind of silent strength from one another. They didn’t care what anyone had to say about it, really. It gave them both peace and reassurance, and that was what mattered.

“What do we do now?” Colby asked after a moment, exhaustion threaded in his voice.

Sam shifted slightly, and bumped his knee against Colby’s. “Our lawyer’s working on it,” he replied quietly. “She yelled at me for a while, but she’s gonna make it so we can go back home until the court date.”

“Oh, good,” Colby responded. “Cause like, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

Sam reached out a hand, and clasped Colby’s shaking one in his. “You’re ok, though...right?” He asked in a quiet voice.

Colby nodded. “Just like, it was scary, you know?” He responded. “Everyone in there was nice to me and shit, but I didn't like being alone.” _Without you_ was left unspoken.

Sam smiled. Trust Colby to make sure it was known that everyone in jail was nice to him. 

“Dude, you are never allowed to go to jail without me again,” Sam declared, squeezing Colby’s hand.

Colby squeezed back. “Don’t pay your bail next time, and stay with me,” he responded. 

He was joking, Sam knew, but he felt the panic and fear and guilt of the last 14 hours bubble up his throat anyway, and tears began to prick at his eyes. “Dude,” he gasped, “I’m never going to let anyone separate us like that ever again.”

Colby lifted his head to look in Sam’s eyes. “I know, brother,” he replied seriously.

Sam shook his head. The tears were brimming now, he could feel it. The dam was bursting. “No,” he sniffled, “Like, they walked you into the back and I saw how scared you were, brother, like I felt it and there was nothing I could do about it! And then I had to go out there, alone, and leave you there! Like, I never wanted that-”

“I know, Sam-”

“-Like, leaving you behind, or losing you, is my worst nightmare, dude! Like, I can’t do it again, I don’t ever want anyone to do that to us again-”

“-Sam, they won’t-”

“-And like, I just love you so much, brother, you know that, right?” Sam’s mini-tirade ended on a sob, as Sam turned and pulled Colby towards him. He didn’t hug Colby near enough, or articulate into words how much he loved him. It wasn’t Sam’s style; he was never good with outward displays of affection and emotions. Of the two of them, Colby was always the one who wore his heart on his sleeve, and did so effortlessly. Sam admired him for that, really...especially because it just didn't come as natural for him. 

He knew, in his more rational moments, that Colby knew him better than anyone else on the planet. That Colby understand how much he meant to Sam, that Colby knew how much Sam loved him. That words weren’t needed between them; that his actions were felt and deciphered and understood. 

But sometimes, it all just came bubbling out, spilling all over the place like a volcano. When Sam got emotional, he went all in with said emotion, and Colby understood that, too.

Colby understood everything, when it came to Sam.

“I know, Sam,” Colby responded, wrapping his arms tightly around Sam’s shoulders. Sam turned his head into Colby’s neck and breathed deep. He smelled like sweat, and jail, and fear...but underneath all of that was the distinctive smell of Colby Brock. The smell Sam had come to associate with home, many years ago.

“They’ll never take you away from me again,” Sam whispered, and Colby chuckled.

“I’d like to see ‘em try,” He responded.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to hear more about Sam's side of the jail saga, so I wrote this little number. I'm not a writer by trade, and this is one of the first things I've ever written, so it isn't perfect, but I thought it was cute and wanted to share. Let me know what you think!


End file.
